Eight years for Christmas
by Kerschi-Puky
Summary: Reposted Chrismukkah story. Still very AU and fluffy, one chapter added
1. Eight years ago, do you regret anything?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, not making money with this

**A/N.:** Sorry, I had to repot this story, because there was one chapter missing and I was too stupid to just add that one. Thanks PariyAmy who betaed the whole story

* * *

_**Eight years ago – do you regret anything?**_

**I **walk through the deserted hallways of the building. Everyone was home by now. It was the peaceful time for being together with your family. My family was nearly complete at home, only one was missing. I enter the dark library. Only the lamps on the desks are switched on. The dark wooden furniture makes the whole room seem like a crypt. There are no students around. Most of them already left the beginning of the week – at least my students did. One is still there. He's sitting at one of the desks, absorbed in his work. I walk over to him. He doesn't even recognise me when I stay next to him.

"Didn't you forget something?" I ask him; panicking and confused eyes shoot at me.

"Dad? …Okay…right…" He says. I didn't mean to scare him like that. He takes some deep breaths to win back his composure.

"What are you doing here?" He asks me, unbelieving that I'm standing in front of him now. I can't believe he has really forgotten. This boy already starts to be like his Mom.

"Well, it's one day before Christmas…or well, you know Chrismukkah. My eldest son is at home, my youngest daughter and my wife. Only one is missing and I just wanted to make sure that you manage to come home in time, because I doubt your Mom would appreciate it, if you miss out her new traditional pre-Christmas-Chrismukkah-dinner." I tell him. My wife had invented this tradition when Seth had turned six and after we moved to Newport. It gives you some time only alone with your family. Then we had needed it. Christmas is awfully busy in Newport. And here? Well, it's not like we are having too many mandatory visits to make or invitations to hand out. In general it's only the five of us and Summer. Since we moved from Newport to Berkeley our life became much quieter and everyone appreciates that; and I know someone who does in particular.

"C'mon kid, next year is still some time left. I'm sure you can need a break." I tell him. He had turned back to his books again, as if I wasn't there.

"Just…this…one." He says, not looking up from his piece of paper. I tacitly agree and sit down in front of him. He had spread all his books and papers all over the desk. I doubt that the other students in his year are as hard working as he is. I fear he might overdo it one time. I don't have to wait for too long and he starts putting together all his papers and books.

"Are you finished?" I ask him.

"Uh…yeah…think so." He answers. He looks tired. He has dark circles under his eyes. I don't know what he's doing wrong. When Seth arrived from the east coast he looked better than ever.

"If not, I know someone who would likely lock up all your books, somewhere where you'll never find them again." I warn him. I don't want him spending all the vacations over his books. Hell, I'd like to spend some time with him again. Lately we haven't even seen him. He came home when we had already been in bed; although we only fell asleep when we finally heard him coming up the stairs and closing the door to his room. And he had already been gone when we got up. Well, I'm still better off than his Mom, because I still have the chance to meet him on campus, but his Mom hadn't seen him for a week. He stows all his books and writing pads in his bag and then gets up. I get up too and then we leave the building. A cold wind blows into our faces. Berkeley is a lot colder than Newport, indeed; but it's also a lot nicer than there. My son rubs his hands to make them warm. I put and arm around his shoulder.

"You know you don't have to work that hard." I tell him. He should enjoy his time as student and not waste every minute in the library.

"At least you should know how hard it is to meet all requirements for a scholarship." He tells me.

"Well, you don't need it. We'd support you as we'd support Seth." I tell him, notwithstanding the fact how proud it makes you when both of your sons have received scholarships. He only shoots his glance at me.

"And you know, no matter how many exams or coursework you'll fail, we'll always love you." I tell him. Sometimes he still isn't sure how this family-thing works. I think he just needs some more time to figure it out completely.

"Yeah…but you know…"

"You, and your never ending pride. I know. I hadn't been different in your age."

"But you complain about it."

"Well, you also know that I had someone who was distracting me enough." I tell him. "C'mon, wanna have a beer?" I ask him. He looks at me confused.

"And what about the…Christmas-Mukkah…whatever dinner?" He asks me.

"We still have a few hours. Don't worry I have planed everything and I know when we come home; I won't have too much from you. Your brother already complains the whole week and your Mom too. You should be prepared for them." I let him know and he offers me a lopsided smile. We enter the bar I used to go when I'd been a student. Nothing had changed. Even the decorations for Christmas are the same. I order two beers and nobody even dares to ask whether the young man next to me is already of age. We clink bottles and take a sip. I watch him carefully. It's awful how similar the boy is to his Mom and me. The few years he'd lived with us have had a huge impact on him.

"So, how's your Mom?" We hadn't been able to claim an injunction, thus his Mom still played a role in his – our lives. I know only too well that he doesn't like this idea.

"Well, I haven't spoken to her since graduation day." He states and a little sadness sways together with his determinateness. I thought he'd be over his Mom by now. Today it's going to be eight years since the fortunate occasions that bestowed our own Christ child on us.

"She'll get over it. Do you plan to visit her?" Graduation day had been awful. His Mom had thought he'd come back with her – start to protect her and probably feed her, now where he had the 'education'. He had told her he was going to go to Berkeley and implementing his dream. She had slapped his face and said that now, when he was the one with his High School Diploma he thought he was something better than her. Then she had left. Her statement had been right. This boy was and always had been much better than her and all others who called themselves his family. He never had forgotten about his Mom, no matter what she had done to him. I wished he was more like his Mom and stop caring about her. This statement had hit him hard that day and he'd trouble coping.

"She's still an alcoholic with drug addicted boyfriends." He only answers.

"So, this is a 'no'?" I ask him. I know that this topic is a red flag for him. All these features have done too much hurt and harm to him.

"I don't wanna spend Christmas and New Year in hospital or bed or whatever again." He only answers. I look at him. I know exactly what he's talking about. Strange that right today he's thinking about this day as well. This feeling of having this day in mind had never before that strong in my mind. I look at him and the development he had made is incredible. He's not longer the too small and malnourished boy with the way too big blue eyes – carrying such a dark expression. Well, his eyes are still huge and blue, but the rest had changed. He had grown quite tall and his figure would never reveal the little boy he had once been.

"You know that this is not going to happen anymore?"

"You forgot the Christmas tree accident last year." He reminds me, with a soft smile on his face.

"Oh my God, remind me to keep Seth far enough from the tree." I say and he smiles even a little more.

"I think he can't cause too much damage when he's close to the finished decorated tree, never again allow him to place it into the socket." He answers.

_It had been awful. Seth had tried to carry the tree and the way he'd been swaying with the creature should've been alarming enough._

"_Seth, shall I give you a hand?" Ryan had asked. He'd probably saw what was coming up to us._

"_No, no…Now…where…Summer and …I plan to move together…I need to …go through the stages…of being…a man." He had answered. Ryan had only chuckled a little and left it with that. Probably thinking Seth would cry out for help any second – as he uses to do. He hadn't. He tried to put the tree into the socket, but he didn't manage to do so. He pulled the tree out again, but then lost his balance and fall backwards. _

"_Seth! What are you doing?" Ryan had jumped to his brother's help and had tried to prevent the tree from falling onto his brother and tried to grab the tree, but Seth already fell and the stump was raised into the sky, leaving an awful laceration on Ryan's forehead; which had needed several stitches. Fortunately Seth got off lightly with only a bruise on his butt. We had nearly spent the whole day in the ER to get both boys checked out. My wife and I had been a little afraid of how Ryan would react after such an event on Christmas. It was, or still is, an open secret that Christmas is a sore point for him. At the end, the boys sat in the back of the car teasing each other whose stupidity has lead to this event. Ryan had been supposed to stay in bed for quite a while, because of his concussion, but we'd settled him on the couch in the living room. It would have been awful if Ryan has had to spend Christmas in his room or even hospital._

"This was the worst headache Seth had ever caused me." Ryan says laughing. It's good to see him laughing about such accidents. It could have ended up differently.

"That's what you're saying now." I take another sip of my bottle. I sigh. I look at the man next to me, but I can't forget the boy he had been. It's the fact that I've been watching him going to school and coming back day after day and now? Now he's attending university. Now he needs us at least still a little; but soon he'll be all grown up and able to stand on his own feet, and then?

"I can't believe that's already eight years ago." I say.

"Quite a long time, what?" He says. I can't make out what he feels about that.

"Also for the case I might say too much now, but do you regret that day?" I look at him. He takes a long sip from the bottle. I can see that he's looking for the right answer.

"What do you want me to answer? Of course my family…my Mom…they still mean something to me, but…not as much as they …I mean they're my family but…I don't feel form them like that anymore. On the other hand…I don't want to miss any of the days I…had with you…well…you know…despite…well…" He says. I understand him and I'm glad that he's still that open to me.

"I think the time you're thinking about is one, we all would like to forget." I tell him.

"Can we just change the topic? I don't like this melancholic talk. It's Christmas, let's find some cheerful topics." He says. He's right and so we start to talk about university life.

"Okay, I think we should head for home. I think some people are anxious waiting for us." I say and then we make our way. I again put an arm around his shoulder while we're making our way home.


	2. Why do you cry?

_**Why do you cry?**_

**T**he front door opens. I'm in the kitchen preparing our dinner. When I hear voices I know it can only be the two missing.

"There you are. I was already prepared to send a search party." I say and try at least to seem to be angry, but I can't.

"Where's my brother?" My other son storms into the kitchen. "Hey dude, have been avoiding me, why haven't you been home?" He asks him.

"Uh…I've been studying." He answers.

"Well, okay, but now you're here, you have to come with me, because I have to show you something." My son grabs my other son's arm and tries to drag him upstairs.

"Oh no!" I oppose. This is not fair. "It's already enough that one of my sons ignores me. I can't stand it if both of you start ignoring me." I claim and grab his other arm.

"Uh…guys…could you…" He starts stammering, only now I realise what I'm doing and that I'm behaving like a five years old girl. I haven't seen him the whole week and I've barely seen him during the whole semester and I'm his Mom so I have the primary right on him.

"Okay, but you both are downstairs in half an hour. No long play station marathons. And I'll take this." I say and snatch the bag out of my son's hand. He looks confused at me.

"Uh…what?" He asks me.

"I've decided that you've learnt enough. What you're doing is far beyond healthy. This bag will rest safe and sound at a place, where I can be sure you won't find it." I tell him.

"Can I at least claim my cell phone?" He asks. I quickly search through his bag and hand it to him. He looks a little alienated.

"I warned you kid." My husband says. He can't hide his smile. Fact: it's awful when your children start to reach the finish line of adolescence; and worst of all when you can't watch them reaching it, because they're so busy with achieving their goals that they don't have time for their parent anymore. I know this is the right way. I know I haven't been different at that age, but it tears my soul from time to time.

"Okay Mom, you had your five seconds, now I have to claim him from you." My son says and then both of them disappear.

"It's awful to watch them becoming grown up persons with their own lives, isn't it?" I ask my husband.

"But we still have one more we can watch growing up. Where is she anyway?" My husband says.

"She's upstairs in her room…"

"Hey! Go out…immediately! I said I don't want anyone coming into my room!" We hear her voice.

"She doesn't want to be disturbed." I only add. My husband nods.

"Mom! Seth and Ryan don't stop …let me down!" She screams. She's already a real little lady. My husband and I chuckle, but then put our masks of seriousness on when we go upstairs. When we reach upstairs, our kids stay in front of us neatly aligned. My husband steps up too and Sophie becomes red and my other two boys have a huge smile plastered all over their faces. I'm confused. I have no idea what this is supposed to mean.

"Mistletoe." Ryan mentions with on single risen eyebrow. My husband and I look above our heads. I feel how my cheeks become hot. Oh no. I feel like a little girl that's caught by stealing cookies, which were so well hidden from her. My husband only shrugs his shoulders and then starts kissing me with the same passion with which he used to kiss me when we'd been young and in love. Well, now…we're still in love, but I don't even want to think about the rest. I return his passion.

"Ew…C'mon guys. It was about kissing not…you know on the stairs and in front of your kids. Think about the youngest in our middle. She has a right to grow up in a safe environment far away from adult content."

"Seth, shut up." Ryan only answers and my husband and I let go of each other.

"So kids, what's all this about?" My husband asks and gives Seth the chance to speak. My other two kids aren't much of a talker. When I look at them, while standing next to each other: no, I won't recognise that we found one of them only by incident. Christmas is always the time we get reminded about that.

"Well, Soph thought it was time for a new family tradition and my dearest younger brother and I agreed. So, we were thinking about her idea – a very good one – and started to plan how to implement our plans."

"What means Ryan and I were doing all the work and Seth…"

"I was delegating from the far east coast. Well, if you, my dearest Mother and you, my dearest Father, would like to follow us." My oldest says and leads us all to a door in the corner of this floor – our junk room? My little daughter steps forward and positions her hand on the doorknob and turns it. She slowly opens the door. A warm light creeps through the slightly bigger growing slit. My heart is pounding awfully hard against my chest. The door is open and Ryan from behind pushes me and my husband gently into the room. The junk was gone. The walls were covered with dark wooden shelves, in which all our books were stored – those we had no space in the house and had to be put in a box in the junk room. The carpet is a bright ochre coloured one and there were small dark rugs placed on the floor – those I brought from home, but I couldn't found a place for. And there in the middle…

"Oh my God." Is all I can say. I walk towards the old piano, my mother's one. It's completely refurbished.

"How…?" I look at my kids.

"Grandpa had been a huge help in this." My younger son answers.

"Yeah, he found someone who tuned it, but we did the rest. Ryan let my paint the ornaments in gold, see?" Sophie is so enthusiastic and I feel my heart squeezes, because of joy and happiness.

"Oh my God…this is the whole hardback edition of my favourite lawyer journal!" My husband exclaims, while he' standing in front of one of the huge racks.

"You've been the one who snatched them, before I could even enter the library." My husband looks at Ryan. The Berkeley library had sold all books they had renewed and he had been eager to get this lawyer journal. When he came home he had told me that he had been too late, someone had made some kind of reservation.

"Just pulled some strings." Ryan says jokingly.

"I bet it was the red hair girl I and Mom saw you with weeks ago!" Sophie cries out and I wish she had kept silent about it. Again I feel the burning sensation of embarrassment running over my cheeks and Ryan blushes too.

My glance wanders, once again through the room. A little Christmas tree stands in the corner of the room. There are three chairs in the middle of the standing on a dark red rug. In front of each chair lies an instrument: violin, viola, cello. Notes are spread over the piano and the note stands. I feel my husband's arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close to his side.

"Kids, you know Christmas is tomorrow." My husband says. I don't know what to say about this. I'd never have thought my kids would be up to something like this. I only know that this is a sign of deep love and that we've done everything right.

"Eww Dad! It's never too early for the Chrismukkah spirit. Despite we all already had your Christmas presents when Sophie came up with this idea." Seth says.

"Is the reason for you being away all the week?" I ask Ryan. He only shrugs his shoulders.

"Kids, I don't know what to say…it's beautiful." I say and then wrap my arms all around them.

"Mom, why are you crying?" My daughter asks. Oh, that's embarrassing. "I'm only happy." I tell her.

"And then you're crying? That's strange." She says. The way she's talking reminds me a lot of Seth. She still can develop into a chatterbox.

"And the instruments are only for decoration?" My husband asks them challenging.

"No, Sophie made Seth and me practice in our precious free time." Ryan says.

"You were playing? Why didn't I hear you?" I ask him.

"That was the other reason for being away for so long every day." He answers. Then all our children take place in front of one note stand. While the boys sit down, Sophie remains standing. She's still too small. She picks up her violin, Seth the viola and Ryan the cello. The way he fits into this family…no, nobody ever would conclude where he comes from and what brought him to us. My husband sits down at the piano and there, on one chair in front of my kids lies my old violin. I pick it up and from one second to another there is this full harmonic atmosphere among us. The stress and pressure from the last days is gone, while we're playing our favourite Christmas songs. We start laughing and teasing my husband who can't stop humming with the melody.


	3. No, I don't regret anything

_**No, I don't regret anything**_

**O**ur little surprise succeeded. We had been so anxious to get to know what our parents would say when they see what we've done. Seth and I felt a little uncomfortable, when Mom started crying.

The dinner had been delicious as always. I don't know since when Mom and Dad have lowered the restraints of their no alcohol policy. I can't imagine me and Seth complaining about it; but as soon as we sat down on the table, Dad poured us red wine as well. I look at him, Seth as well.

"You're nearly adults by now and I know what's going on in dorms and Uni parties." Dad says and my brother and I only shrug our shoulders. Yes, this Christmas definitely will be different. I don't fear the change, because I know changes are natural and not every change means something bad. We start dinner and listen to Seth's experiences he had made through the last semester. I'm glad to see that he's happy where he is. We had doubted we could get along separated. We never have been. We manage in somehow, although we both agree that being together would be probably more fun. On the other hand, we both have some time left to study for our exams and coursework. I doubt we'd be able if we attended the same Uni.

After dinner I help Mom cleaning the dishes. Seth and Sophie are occupied with a play station game. Of course it is one without ninjas and not about stealing cars.

"Okay kids, time to decorate the tree." Dad says holding the huge box in his hands.

"Oh yeah!" Sophie and Seth call out.

"Oh no Seth, you can watch us, but after last year, your only permission is watching the tree from a distance of about one mile." I tell him.

"C'mon dude, it's not like you've been all innocent." He teases back.

"Whom of us tried to carry a – for him – way too heavy tree?" I ask him back.

"Know it all, now you feel great uh? We'll meet us later this evening, in front of a ninja match and then I'll show you, who your daddy is." Seth starts his gangster attitude.

"What's with me?" Dad asks and Seth and I burst into laughter.

"Nothing Dad, go and chill." Seth says and we have to laugh even more.

"Sometimes I really have some trouble understand the both of you."

"That my dearest husband, is nothing new." Mom answers and then we start to decorate the tree. We try to keep Seth away from it, but it's more difficult than we thought it'll be.

"Let me through the tree! It's an emergency!" My brother shouts, while he waving an ornament in the air.

"Oh no, you don't want to hurt you parents or even your little sister, do you?" I ask, blocking his way.

"Show off. Only because you have the muscles, it doesn't mean that you superior to me. Think wise, because I have the brains." He says, jumping from one side to the other, trying to confuse me so that he can run past me on one side. He tries to speed of at my left side, but I stop him with my arm.

"So, what does your smart brain tell you now?" I ask him.

"I know a very, very sore point." He says threatening.

"Oh yeah sure, what else?" I tell him. I can't hold back my laughter.

"I just say: neutered." Seth snarls and tries the look.

"Seth, don't say neutered!" Mom reproaches him.

"What does neutered mean?"

"We'll explain it to you, when you're a little older." Dad answers and shoots glances at us. I let Seth go. He manages to place the ornament without accident. While Seth decides where to put the ornaments – I really don't know who's younger Sophie or him. Mom and I are satisfied with picking them out of the box; unwrapping them and hand them to rest of the family. One by one the tree looks more and more like a Christmas tree. There's just one pi

Dad holds up Sophie so that she can put the last piece – the star on the peak of the tree.

We all sit down on the couch and watch the tree. It looks beautiful. Mom disappears in the kitchen for a few minutes and comes back with five mugs of steaming hot chocolate. She hands it to everyone.

"Who's up for some Christmas movie?" Dad asks us. Oh yeah, everybody has to stick to this tradition. I appreciate it. I still know how this relaxed sticking to a tradition had offered me some kind of security when I came here first. I had been so awfully afraid of everything. It's still very curious. I got up one morning as I always did and a few hours later me whole life had turned upside down.

"Okay what do we have: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation , Scrooged and Miracle on 34th Street."

"Griswolds!" My brother and I say out loud.

"Kris Kringle!" Dad looks at us with his she's-the-youngest- and-comes-after-her-Mom-look.

"Okay, Sophie won!" Seth says and Sophie jumps up from the floor and flops down between Mom and Dad. Dad switches the TV on and then we sit together and watch 'Miracle on 34th Street'. We watch it to the end, although Soph is already deep in sleep, cuddled into Dad's arm. When the film is finished he carries her up stairs.

"Still up for a round Griswolds?" Mom asks and I look at Seth. "C'mon boys. What's Christmas without the ultimate how-not-to-celebrate-Christmas-movie?" She says and puts the DVD in. I love these kinds of evenings. This is what gives you the feeling of really being a family. A warm feeling of satisfaction and relief spreads through my body. No matter how hectic things will be the next few days, it'll be a warm and relaxed way of hectic.

The candles that Mom has lit spread a shy scent of oranges and cinnamon through the room. Everything seems to be warm and cosy and I don't want these to be over. It's like we left the cruel world outside when we entered through the front door. This here is a protected area and I can feel it. I'll never stop to appreciate this feeling especially at Christmas. I feel Dad's arm around my shoulders. I'm not afraid of this kind of physical affection. I know they won't hurt me. I can feel safe here. No matter when I come home, I can let my guard down and just…be.

It's quite late when we go to bed, nearly one in the morning. I step out of the bathroom and Dad's already waiting for being able to enter it. I look at him.

"No, I don't regret it." I tell him and that's the truth. I don't even know if I want to consider the people of my past as my family. They never had been and they never will. These are just people I'm biological related to.

"I think, I'd rather regret it, if it hadn't happened as it has." I say and I can see the expression of happiness. It's calm happiness, though I know how much it means to him when I said these things; and I meant it. I don't want to turn the time back and have things different.

"We don't either, but I think you know this by now." He says and pats my back. "And now got to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"Oh yeah, can you do me one favour?" He looks at me. "Can you keep Seth and Soph from storming my room in six in the morning? Especially Seth." I emphasise. He only laughs.

"I'll see what I can do for you." He says and then – with ruffling through my hair – he disappears in the bathroom and I go to bed. Even here I have my own room, although this house is much smaller than the other one, we used to live in Newport. I don't mind. I think I like this house even more. We put a lot of family-work into it. Yes, maybe it is this what makes it even cosier for me. I could help building up this family house. I crawl under my thick blankets. I know we don't live in the deep north of Europe where it's really cold, but still I used to freeze a lot and fast. I never could have moved to the east coast like Seth did. Alone the thought of degrees below zero makes me shiver. No, I better not think about it and only hope that I can sleep without being woken up by Seth or Soph. Although, this is what family means, right? They want you around all the time and being with them. So I have to accept Seth and Sophie being so excited about Christmas…Chrismukkah. Watching Sophie in all her excitement is quite cute, but Seth can be really annoying. He's too old for this and I fear Summer might get her frequent black outrages when she has to deal with Seth and Christmas one day all on her own, without us. I doubt that 'without us' will ever happen. It's already like Summer got absorbed into this family. Holidays are the only days she spends with her own family. Well, Christmas is the only holiday she doesn't spend with us, yet. I turn around and then I just drift into the warm and cosy oblivions.


	4. One painful memory

_**One painful memory**_

**N**ext morning I slowly and silently enter the room of my last, not up yet, kid. He's cuddled into his blankets. Only a few strains of hair peak out under his sick blankets.

"Hey sleepy head, time to get up." I sit down on the edge of the bed and stroke the bangs out of his face.

"How late is it?" He groans, and crawls deeper under his blankets.

"Nearly eleven." I tell him.

"Too early." He says and hides his head under a pillow. I start shaking him gently. "You slept ten hours. That should be enough for a boy your age." I tell him, and start rolling him back and forwards.

"Okay, your last choice: either you get up, or I let both Seth and Sophie in." I let him chose.

"You wouldn't be that cruel, wouldn't you?" He asks me.

"Oh yes, I would. Anyway your Dad needs someone to help him picking up Sophie's present for tonight." I tell him. I know he's the only one who can keep his mouth shut in this family.

"You and Dad didn't decide to…"

"Yes we did." I let him know.

"And every time Seth will come home for a visit we'll have listen to him, how he wasn't allowed to have a turtle, but his little sister got a dog. I'm really looking forward to it." He says and now he's disappeared completely under the blankets.

"It won't be that bad."

"No…worse." I hear his muffled voice from under the blanket.

"Ryan, please get up, or are you getting sick again?" I ask him sceptical and try to find his forehead underneath the blankets.

"I've only been sick on Christmas once." He says and tries to escape my hands that have found his face.

"Twice." I let him know.

"Yeah, but the second time more or less falls under: Julie- Cooper's-and-her-daughter's-psychological-terror." He answers and I have to chuckle, although this hadn't been funny at all at that time. I'm glad that Ryan can see things now with a little more humour. Teenage years had been awful, for both of my sons.

"Had been our first Christmas here." I say. We had moved from Newport to Berkeley in less than a week. Sophie had slept with us in our bedroom and the boys had slept in the living room, because all other rooms weren't ready to be lived in.

"I still can't believe that you've been doing that." He says, without only looking out of his little cave. I pull my legs up to the bed and lay my arm around him and then cuddle close to his back. I know that he still likes that I do this, although he always says he's too old for this. I don't care. I'll do so whenever I feel the urge for it.

"_Ryan honey, you need to eat something." I had told him in the morning. He has had trouble with eating over months; added to that stomach aches every day and with the near same frequency he was throwing up at night. We had ran from doctor to doctor, but there was nothing wrong with him – at least not physical_

"'_m not hungry." He had answered. The lack of sleep had been visible, and he had become so skinny._

"_Are you sure that we shouldn't talk to Dr. Kim about this?" I asked him. No, he hadn't told us. We know from his brother what went on at school. If Julie Cooper hadn't been one of my colleagues I've had to work with, I'm sure I'd done something earlier._

"_How would it look like?"_

"_Like the concerned and worried parents that we are." I had said determining. Lately it had been all a little strained. Ryan had become distanced towards us; and I'd been sure who had been to be blamed for this. Being the parents of an adoptive son isn't easy sometimes, as I'm sure being an adoptive son isn't too._

"_They're just saying stupid things." He answered. He had stopped calling us Mom and Dad. _

"_And what about the schoolbag incident?" I ask him. They had stolen his schoolbag and poured milk over it and eggs. We couldn't rescue the bag, or the books, neither the writing-pads._

"_That was a stupid action." He answered shyly. Fact: we've had a lot of trouble with Ryan that period of time. He wouldn't talk to us or want our help. We've been helpless._

"_And what about the soccer-training incident? Was that only a stupid action too?" My husband got into the kitchen. The guys from his soccer team had decided that it was fun to tackle, the physical already weakened boy. They had tackled him too hard, and have been way too close to the goal. He had hit his head awfully at the post, and his coach had to bring him to the ER. The cut above his eyebrow had needed several stitches; but instead of suspending those who had caused this, he had thrown Ryan out of the team. He said that Ryan would disturb the homogeneity among the team._

"_Ryan, face it. This goes far beyond the typical way of bullying." My husband had said. Ryan hadn't been looking at us. He never looked at us in that time. He had been rejecting us. It had been an awful time. Not even Seth had been able to reach him. It was as if he'd started believing what all the other kids were telling him, day after day at school._

_We had tried it that morning, but it hadn't helped. It had been three weeks before Christmas vacations. I had to work together with Julie and I knew that I had to invite her over for dinner that evening. I had invited her children too. Today, I know it had been a bad idea. I hadn't been thinking about what I'd been doing when I invited her with her husband and kids; but I had done it._

_We were all sitting together at the dinner table: Julie, her husband Jimmy, her two daughters Kaitlin and Marissa, my husband, I and my kids. Both my sons were awfully silent. Well, Ryan never had been much of a talker, especially when someone else was there; but Seth was always in the mood to talk. Which means: if he isn't, it's a very bad situation. My husband didn't seem to notice the strained situation. He was talking with Jimmy about this and that. I tried to do the same with Julie, but the disgusted glances of her daughters over to my youngest son didn't remain unnoticed. I tried to hide my hurt and angry feelings about that._

"_Mom, can we get up and play with the play station?" Seth had asked, after we've finished dinner and it was obvious that the kids were totally bored._

"_Yeah, sure, if it's okay with Julie." I answer._

"_Of course." She answers. My boys got up._

"_But we don't want to play with him!" Kaitlin cried out and pointed at Ryan._

"_Pardon?" I asked. I doubted that I'd heard what I thought._

"_We're not playing with someone who's from Chino." Marissa added. I looked at my youngest son – who looked visibly hurt- and then to my husband._

"_Why is it a problem that he's from Chino?" My husband asked. I'd rather liked to know why their mother sat there saying nothing about what her daughters had said. _

"_He's dirty and who knows what kinds of diseases he carries around. Mom says he's nothing but scum and he's not supposed to stay here in our community." My jaw dropped; my husband slammed his hand onto the table; Seth was calling after his brother who stormed out; Julie and her family sat there as if nothing had happened._

"_How dare you say something like that?" I reproached the girls. "And Julie? You just sit there and do nothing?" I asked her unbelieving that she really had done nothing. "This is not okay, Julie!" I told her, while my husband followed our sons._

"_Kirsten, they are only children, and you know: children and fools speak the truth." She said._

"_What?" Now I've raised my voice and I'd been unable to hide my anger about what she had said._

"_C'mon Kirsten, everybody knows that…this charity project is just some kind of attempt to sooth your bad conscience about your wealth." This only had driven my anger further._

"_How dare you saying that? Out! Out of my house, immediately!" I screamed into her face. I didn't want to have her near my family anymore. She got up in her posh and arrogant manner and took her children._

"_You know Kirsten, nobody around here likes the idea that you brought some straying street kid into this community. You should better watch out that this decision doesn't harm your reputation one day." She had said and then left the house. When she was gone I followed the voices upstairs. My son and my husband were talking…to a door._

"_He locked himself up in there." My son said._

"_Ryan, sweetie? They're gone. I threw them out. I promise if I had known that this would happen, I'd never let them in." I told him. "You don't have to see them anymore if you don't want to. You can go to another school. We'll find a solution that suits you, but please come out, okay?" I asked him. I had been afraid of what he might have been up to. He had been so quiet and retreated lately. I was just so afraid. He finally had gotten out and I threw my arms around him._

"_Oh baby. I promise you never have to go to this school anymore." I told him. _

"_And what about Seth? Don't wanna be alone." He said. I could hear that he was crying – and feel. My husband started soothing him, by rubbing his back in slow circles._

_The days after this evening had been awful. Now both of my boys had been bullied at school. When I went to the Yogalates lesson none of the other women was even looking at me and I felt that they were talking behind my back. We went to the casual Newport-Group Christmas Party, but the only thing that kept them from throwing us out had been the fact that my father was the owner of the Newport Group._

"_Sandy?" I asked my husband that evening._

"_Yeah?"_

"_What do you think about moving away from here? I can't stand this community. I have the feeling as if I am choking." I told him._

"_Are you sure about that?"_

"_If you are?"_

"_Berkeley?" I've never seen such a huge smile._

"_Berkeley." I never thought I was capable of moving my family in less than two weeks from one place to another, but we managed. We even had time to enrol our kids in a new school. I'm sure, without my Dad's help it never would have been possible. Well, we didn't have the luxury lifestyle then, we used to have – the one we have now; but nobody complained. The boys were okay with sleeping in the living room on two separate couches and we had no trouble with letting Sophie sleep in our room. We even had found the time for our Christmas traditions. When I came downstairs the day before Christmas Eve, I found only one of my sons._

"_Hey honey, time to get up." I woke him up gently. He looked tired. "Do you know where your brother is?" I asked him._

"_Probably in the bathroom. He had been throwing up the whole night, but he didn't want me to go and get you."_

"_Oh…okay." I said and then went to the bathroom. It was silent. I knocked at the door, but got no answer. I entered it and my other son sat there with his head lent against the cold wall._

"_Oh sweetie," I kneeled down. I saw that he had been sick. I brushed the bangs out of his face and it was hot._

"_You're sick. C'mon let's get you back. You need to lie down." He hadn't even protested. I had tucked him in into a thick blanket and a throw and then placed a bucket next to him, before I had called a doctor. It had been nothing serious. _

"_It's an awful cold and maybe some kind of stress relief. The last months must have been hell for the boy. I can't even count how often you've been in my office because of his stomach aches and vomiting. But I'm sure it'll get better now." He had said._

_We spent Christmas Eve in the living room. Ryan had to stay in bed – or on the couch – for several days; and although he couldn't participate as he used to, it still was a wonderful and peaceful Christmas._

"_Are you okay?" I asked him when it had been time for bed. He had fallen asleep several times on us, but it was okay._

"_mmm" He had answered. I took the bucket. "Could…you leave it…I…still don't feel too good on my stomach." He had said._

"_Okay, but if something's wrong, you know where we are, alright?" He had nodded._

"_Love you honey." I said and pecked him onto his forehead._

"_Love you too Mom." He mumbled, before her drifted off to sleep. I went over to my oldest son._

"_Sleep well honey, I hope you had a nice Christmas Eve." I said before pecking him good night._

"_Maybe the best." He said, before he turned to his side and fell asleep. That evening I knew that the decision moving away from Newport had been the right one._

I peck him quickly onto his forehead and then get up. I take his blankets and pull them away from him.

"Now it's time to get up." I say and my son slowly gets into a sitting position.

"You're so mean, do you know that?"

"Why?"

"First making everything warm and cosy and then this. I don't think I like that." He says.

"Yeah, that's what being a Mom means." I say and then leave him – giving him some time to wake up properly.

"Someone still needs a lot of comfort." My husband says and throws his arms around me before giving me a kiss.

"Sometimes he think he's still afraid of someone might taking us away from him." I say and smile.


	5. You didn't, did you?

_**You didn't, did you?**_

"**H**ey kid, you're late." I say to my younger son when he finally joins us. I hand him a mug of coffee.

"Ryan, how can you sleep so long? Seth and I are already up for hours." My youngest asks him, before sitting down on his lap. For her it's so natural to consider, and treat both of my sons as her brothers.

"Because I don't suffer from a sugar overdose." He teases his sister and starts tickling her until she leaves his lap voluntarily.

"Are you ready to come?" I ask him.

"Breakfast? Eating? Something?" He just asks.

"You are very demanding, do you know that?" I tease him back and then hand him a bagel with cream cheese.

"You can eat it on the way." I say.

"You know slavery was prohibited decades ago, do you?" He asks me back and slowly gets up and follows me.

"Where do you have to go?" My youngest asks me.

"We just have to get some things for tonight." I tell her. She looks at me, but she already knows that I won't tell her more than this, thus she just sighs and leaves it with that.

"And you're really sure you want to do this?" My son asks me when we're on our way. "I mean, you know that you're going to be the ones doing the main job regarded to dog-duty and stuff." He warns me. Sometimes he's already too mature for my taste. It never had been different. Seth had been the one with a lot of nonsense in his mind and Ryan had been the quiet and thoughtful one.

"Don't worry. First of all we decided for a small very quiet breed. Not very energetic, doesn't need to go for a walk for hours and are supposed to sleep most of the day." I answer him.

"You're sure that you're not dreaming this?" My son asks me.

"They call it Shi-Tzu." I answer him.

"Shi…what? I'm not sure whether this is a good idea." He expresses his concerns. He'd never wanted a pet. He'd even never been thinking about that. Seth had begged for ages for getting a turtle, but when my wife got to know that you have to store them in the fridge in winter, she had denied. She hadn't wanted a turtle in her fridge.

"Don't worry. Right now, I'm not sure whose Christmas present we're going to get: your sister's one or an additional one for your Mom. She fell in love with these little cute creatures. They're just too sweet." I answer him. Fact, I really think these dogs are cute. They have something calm and nice.

"You sure it's only Mom who fell in love with these dogs?" My son asks me critically and only now I realise how female I must have sounded saying this about a dog. I only shrug my shoulders.

We reach the breeder. My son follows me sceptically. It doesn't take long. We just have to pick up the dog. I place the dog in Ryan's arms. I'm afraid it might run away, only a few seconds after it went into our ownership.

"This is no dog. That's something between cat and a mop, but it's never a dog." My son says when he carefully places the small creature in front of his seat.

"It's a she. Get used to the idea that this little animal will claim the same rights for it, as we claim for us." I tell him. He only rolls his eyes. Sometimes I wish he was a little less rational.

"Did you think about how to smuggle it…her into the house without Soph noticing it? Or did you think about letting it…her stay in the car until tonight?" He asks me.

"No, the rest of the family went to the skating rink. We'll join them when we've finished our mission."

"And this…whatever it is, is supposed to stay alone in the house without any kind of observation?" No, he doesn't sound convinced about the whole dog thing.

"The dog's house-trained. The breeder had affirmed it to me." I try to make him a little less sceptical towards the dog. He only looks onto the sleeping that lies curled together into a small ball in front of his feet.

"Yeah sure, who would want a dog that ruins your carpet at home? Of course he confirmed that it…she is house-trained." He says, while the dog shifts a little closer towards his leg and places her head on top of the shin of his outstretched leg.

"I think she likes you." I tell him.

"She uses me as pillow and starts to utilize me. That has nothing to do with liking someone." He answers and I have to laugh about this. He's really not convinced about having a dog at home.

"C'mon there could be worse things than that." I tell him and ruffle through his hair. He only shakes his head and then watches on the creature at his feet. She's really quite. Not the slightest sound come…one moment? I turn my head to my son.

"Was this you?" I ask him. He looks sound awake. I doubt that he had made the snoring noise.

"Nope." With his head he points to the dog that's still sound asleep, but snores awfully loud, as if it was a huge bear.

"Okay, I think this is the sing that we'll have a lot of fun with this dog." I say and my son only nods in agreement. We don't talk a lot. We don't need to. Nobody in our family needs to talk a lot with him to communicate. It's something special being in the same room in silence with him than with someone else. It's as if we talk without words. This condition of being mute had always been the problem for his girlfriends. They always had wanted to talk, but Ryan doesn't talk a lot. When he has something to say then he'll let you know. Otherwise he'll listen carefully to every word you say to him. It's sad to see that he still hasn't found the right match, but he attends university. He should meet the right girl within this time. If not I'll have to rethink Seth's plan of pairing his brother off with someone.

When we reach home, Ryan picks up the dog and carries her to the house.

"Where do we go?"

"Mom said we should put her upstairs." I answer and then we go. Ryan let her out of his arms and the dog starts to explore her new surrounding and disappears in the first room which door is open. Ryan's room.

"Oh no." He says and follows the dog. The dog is sniffling around, her tail waiving around in excitement. The dog doesn't seem to want to go out again. I look at my son.

"Oh no…she's not…" The dog feels at home. This is what I read out of her behaviour. She just jumped onto my son's bed and curled together, let out a big sigh and closes her eyes.

"Can I at least have another blanket? I don't want to have a bed full of dog hair." He says.

"No problem. Mom already bought everything we need for having a dog." I say to him and bring him the dog blanket. He lifts the dog and I sprawls the blanket over the bed. Then he lays her back into the bed where she again curls together into a tiny little ball and sleeps on.

"C'mon. I don't think she'll cause a lot of damage." I say to him and make my way to the door.

"You don't want to leave her alone, do you?" He asks me unbelieving.

"Why not? That was the plan." I tell him. I don't understand his concerns now. I thought he'd be glad when we leave the dog.

"Because she's in a complete new surrounding which she doesn't know. Leaving her alone seems a little violent to me." He answers. I guess he's the only person I know who thinks that way. He's the only person I know who knows what he's talking about in this context.

"Don't worry she'll be fine. She already feels like at home. That's why she can fall asleep immediately." I explain him.

"Okay, but remind me that it was your idea, just in case the dog develops some serious psychological damage." He says and then we leave the dog – door closed. We don't want Sophie finding out about this one second earlier.

We met the rest of our family on the skating rink. Sophie and Seth are already busy skating. My wife sits at the side with a hot – I guess cocoa – in her hand. We reach her.

"Hey you two." She says and kisses me on the mouth and then hugs our son. "You have to hurry up. Someone is already waiting for you." My wife says and Sophie is already there.

"Ryan! C'mon you need to come. You have to show me some new tricks." Ryan performs with Sophie some tricks and she feels like a princess on ice.

"I need to get some skates first." He says, but my wife already waves with a pair in front of his face. He smiles and starts to put his shoes of and the skates on. Then he goes onto the skating rink, taking Sophie's hand and then starts to skate – meanwhile fooling around with Seth. It's such a peaceful image. Nothing could be better and more relaxing than watching your kids be happy. I sit down next to my wife who hands me a mug of hot cocoa. Then she shifts close to me and leans her head onto my shoulder. I take her free hand in mine. Together we watch our kids enjoying their time.

"Is the dog at home?" She asks me after a while.

"Safe and sound asleep on Ryan's bed. I think I know where this dog is going to have her sleeping place." Say to my wife and she smiles.

"How hard, do you think it's going to be to persuade Ryan, from not throwing the dog out?" She asks.

"Not too hard, I guess." I'm sure Ryan already likes the dog as my wife and I do. This little cuddly creature is too cute to be not liked. Oh my God. I never thought I would be happy to bring a dog home, but in some way…I already like this little quadruped.


	6. But You're his Mom

_**But you're his Mom!**_

**A**fter hours of ice skating, we finally go home. I'm tired and hungry and I need a shower. Despite that I'm freezing like a snowman, and I'm sweating like a pig. What a combination. I go upstairs to change into other cloths. I carefully open the door, to prevent this quadruped from sneaking out. She's still lying on my bed, but she's lying with her head on my pillow. I take her carefully and put her back onto the blanket where she's supposed to lie on. She looks at me and I have the feeling as if her face tells me: what the fuck are you doing? Dogs don't have facial expressions do they? I go to my closet and open…No!

"Dad!" I call out, one foot in a puddle that hadn't been there when I left. My door opens and my Dad enters.

"What's wrong?" He asks. I only look down at my foot.

"Is that what a housetrained dog is supposed to do?" I ask him. He only chuckles.

"Don't worry. This can be solved." He says and leaves me. Right now I'd like to kill this hair-ball on my bed.

"Here." Dad hands me a cloth, with which I first clean my foot and then the floor. "I think we should try it with some soap." Dad says and leaves. The dog lies on my bed like the innocence in persona.

"Here, try this. Mom used it when our sons had their phase of messing up the carpets." He says with a grin. Actually I don't like this situation a lot. I take the soap.

"Could you get me some old newspapers?" I ask him.

"Why?"

"Because I think that it'll take some hours, until we allow her to leave this room and I'm not fond of cleaning the carpet again. Who knows what it'll be the next time?" I say to him and he starts chuckling again.

"This is not funny." I say to him.

"You should see your face then, you'd know it is. C'mon kid. It's just a dog and nothing we can't take care of." He says and then disappears once again. After the cleaning I sit down on the edge of my bed. The dog slowly shifts closer to me and then places her head on my lap. Her huge eyes look at me. No, I won't cuddle you. This is too much. I say to myself and I stay hard until my Dad comes; then we start to cover the carpet with newspaper.

"Okay done." Dad says. "Only a few more hours and then the dog can come out. Mom is already in the bathroom." Dad says and then pads my shoulder. I only sigh and watch the dog lying on my bed and pretending as if nothing had happened.

Well, Dad is right. It's only a dog and soon it'll be out of my room and in Soph's, who'll take good care of her. Without being conscious about it, I start to stroke the dog although I didn't want to. It's the same problem as with Sophie. No matter how hard you not want to fall for her begging and pleading, you'll reach one point on which you can't resist any longer.

After I've taken a shower and changed into other cloths Seth and I start our videogame marathon we've planned for these vacations.

"C'mon man, you've lost your shape. Don't tell me that this is all you can come up with!" Seth exclaims while he wins again. Truth: today I totally suck at play station.

"Dude, I don't have that much time to practice." I tease him.

"Well, that's all a matter of organization and priorities. Who needs sleep when he has a lecture next day?" He says triumphantly.

"Seth! Don't tell me that I've heard what you've said!" Mom calls out of the kitchen. This didn't go well.

"Mom, I swear I would never in life time skip a lecture and risk my scholarship." He immediately replays. It's amazing, his ability to nearly-lie.

"Yeah, yeah…I know." Mom only answers. "Last round boys and then you have to get changed for dinner." She says and Seth looks at me.

"Ready to lose…again?" He asks.

"Just wait. I'll show you who loses again." And then we start another round.

We all sit together at the dinner table. Mom looks at me and smiles. She comes towards me and hugs me tight.

"Eight years ago Santa brought us you, and I don't want to miss one second we had together with you." She says not too loud, but loud enough that the rest of the family can hear her. I still don't like it when she does this; but I know how much it means to her to express her feelings like that. I still know how I; at the beginning thought she was counting the days until she finally got rid of me. Today I know it has the utter opposite meaning.

"Our own Christ Child." She says and places a kiss on my forehead. Dad puts an arm around my shoulder.

"Where she's right, she's right." He says.

"But Ryan's birthday is in July. How can Santa have brought him to us when he was born in July?" Sophie asks sceptical. She's smart. She doesn't believe everything you tell her. That's good. I catch Mom's glance. We haven't told her yet. We weren't sure whether she was old enough and anyway Mom and Dad left the decision to me when the right point of time was. I only nod.

"Well, then lets all sit down in the living room, because this is going to be a longer story." Dad says and then we all go to the living room. Sophie sits between her parents; my brother next to Dad, and I next to Mom.

"**S**o, now we're going to tell you, how your brother came to us." I start. I look once more over to my son. I want to be sure that he wants his sister to know that. My wife and I left the decision, when the right time of telling her was, to him. He should be comfortable about this. No matter how often he calls us Mom and Dad; and no matter how happy he seems around us. This day still is and was a traumatic one.

"Two days before Christmas eve I had to go to the social services. A woman had complained about they took her child from her without any reasonable grounds. So I went there and met the woman...

_I entered the building and she had already been waiting for me. Her blond hair was messy and her make up too much to wear it at day. I didn't care, because it was not about her look, but about why the social services had decided to put her son into a foster home._

"_Mrs. Atwood?" I asked to make sure she was my client._

"_Yes, that's me." She shook my hand roughly and I noticed the scent of alcohol. I already sensed that the social services might have had proper reasons for acting the way they did. I didn't let her realize what I was thinking._

"_Sandy Cohen: I'm here to check whether everything went the right way." I told her and then we headed into the office. I immediately spotted a boy sitting on a chair, his legs oscillating aimlessly in the air. His head was ducked, though I could see that his face was older than his body. He was just too skinny and small._

"Believe me or not at the age of ten he was even smaller than you are now." My oldest son interrupts me and looks at his sister, whose eyes are widely open.

"I don't believe you. He's stronger and taller than you." She answers.

"I don't think that this matters or?" My wife says and then lets me go on.

"Nevertheless I went into the office with the woman...

_I went to a guy I already knew from my job. He usually is the one I have to deal with when it comes to issues with the social services._

"_Hey Sandy, nice to see you." Tom said when I reached his desk, followed by my client._

"_Hey Tom, nice to see you too. I'd only wish it was under other circumstances." I said. He nodded._

"_You're here because of the boy?" He said and nodded with his head into the direction where the boy sat on a chair. I nodded back._

"_The boy? Mister, that's my son you're talking about, not some kind of straying puppy!" The woman started complaining again._

"_Mrs. Atwood, if you want me to sort this thing out, you need to calm down and let me do the talk." I tried to make her shut up. I knew if she kept on talking she only would give more evidence to the social worker that the decision had been right. On the other hand, I knew Tom. He wasn't one of those who jump to conclusions. If he had decided to take the boy out of his family and to a foster him, the decision was founded on reasonable grounds._

"_So what was the reason for your decision?" I ask him._

"_We received a note from the hospital, stating that there were signs of abuse and…"_

"_That's complete bullshit. I never and would never lay hand on my son!" The woman screamed. I put my hand reassuring on her arm, to calm her down._

"_Mrs. Atwood, please." I tried to sooth her._

"_What? This man is alleging me for something that's never happened and you only stay here and listen to him? I'm sure you already have your picture. Only because I'm not dressed in a nice expensive dress it doesn't mean I hurt my kid, you bastard!" She had insulted me and then ran away._

"_C'mon Ry, we go home." She commanded her son, who jumped from the chair. She violently grabbed his arm. I could hear him wincing at the contact. I only looked at Tom and I saw his concerned face. A face that told me: I had my reasons. _

"_I'll fix this." I told him and ran after the woman._

"_Sandy, wait!" Tom called after me. "First I need to tell you some details." He said and I went back and sat down in front of his chair._

"And the boy had been you?" Sophie asks looking at our son. He only nodded. "But why have you been with another woman that wasn't Mom?" She asked. She hadn't gotten the point.

"Because she was…is his mother, sweetie." I tell her and stroke through her hair.

"But you're his Mom?" She asks.


	7. Now we're going to tell you

_**Now we're going to tell you…**_

"**W**ell, now I am. Let us tell you the whole story. Maybe then you understand." I say and go on.

_I was waiting for Dad outside the building. I've been pregnant with Sophie. It was the sixth month and it was visible. I watched the woman storming out the building, tearing a little boy after her._

"_Mommy, I can't walk that fast!" He called after his Mom, but she didn't seem to listen and ran on, until the boy tipped over and fell on the hard pavement, scratching his knee. I could see he was suppressing the tears that threatened to come._

"_Stupid kid, come up!" His Mom commanded and I flinched inwardly at her harsh words. _

"_But I can't walk that fast." The boy muttered shyly and stumbled back onto his feet. His mother didn't help him; didn't comfort him as she was supposed to do as his mother. She just stood there and watched him, scratching the dirt out of his wound and then carefully getting up._

"_Are you talking back?" His mother asked him and slapped his face. She should have taken him into her arms to comfort him, not have slapped his face. If she had listened to him, this hadn't happened. It had been her fault._

_I watched her grabbing his arm again. I felt so sorry for the boy. I felt the urge to take him and protect him from his mother._

"_Let go of me." The boy protested, as his mother started to tear him with her again. "Mom!" He called out to make her stop. His face was drawn in pain._

"_Stop it!" She screamed at him and slapped his face again and again. "I don't want to hear any more complains. You've already caused enough trouble. I have enough other things on my mind!" She screamed at him and kept slapping him. The slapping turned into beating._

"_Mom! No…please…" The boy had started to whimper. His mother hasn't listened but started to beat him with her free fist, while she was holding him with the other arm. I watched how he tried to protect his head with his free arm._

"_Mom…please…I'll be quiet."I couldn't take it anymore._

"_Miss, could you please leave the boy alone?" I asked the woman._

"_Keep out of my business!" She screamed at me and kept on beating her now, only whimpering son. Every beat was harder than the foregoing one. _

"_Stop beating your son!" I said more determining. She did. She looked at me._

"_Who are you to tell me to stop beating my son huh? Your nice dress doesn't give you the right for blaming me, got it?" She asked me. She let her son lose and stepped towards me._

"_I'm probably nobody to you, but I'm not going to watch how you beat your son black and blue on an open street." I told her directly into her face._

"_Piss off, little woman!" She said and stepped closer. I could smell she was drunk._

"_If you stop hurting your son, I will." I said. My voice had been shaking of anger._

"_You know what, you can have him, if he means that much to you." She had said, grabbed her son and more or less threw him into my direction. He bounced against my swollen belly. The force it owned made me stumble backwards and fall onto my butt and the boy falling over me. I was in some kind of shock and just sat there. I had no idea what had happened just a second ago. The boy struggled back onto his feet._

"_Are you okay Miss?" He asked me and stretched his arm out, to help me get up._

"_Yes, I'd better asked you." I say. His face was red where his mother had slapped him and I was sure some of the red spots were going to develop the colours black and blue._

"_And…with your…I mean…is everything okay there?" He asked shyly and looked at my belly. I had to smile. He was so sensitive and polite, and that after what had happened just a second ago._

"_Yes, I think so." I replied._

"_Oh…okay. Then take care. I'm sure the baby is going to be as beautiful as you are." With these words he ran away. I was frozen in my tracks by his words. I was astonished that he still had the strength to say something like this. Thereof I realised too late that I should probably ask him, whether he really was okay. This sentence moved something inside of me. I couldn't tell then what it was. It was a strange feeling that was boiling inside of me. I couldn't let the boy go, as if nothing had happened. I had to take care of him. I had to make sure that he was okay. I had the feeling as if I owed it to him. It was my duty – at least it felt as if it was my duty to take care of him, as it already had been my duty to take care of my two own children. I just had to make sure that he was okay._

"_Kid…wait!" I called out and tried to follow him. It had been a challenged, because I was already that swollen that I couldn't walk properly anymore. I just saw him crossing the street, without looking; then screaming breaks and a dumb thud._

"_Oh my god." I exclaimed and in somehow I managed to reach the street. The boy was lying on his side. I reached him and kneeled down. The driver of the car got out and just watched us._

"_Hey Kid; everything okay?" I asked him. He nodded his head and get into an upright position. It seemed as if the boy hadn't been injured too badly; still I was worried._

"_Can you call an ambulance? I think someone should have a look at the boy." I said to the driver of the car._

"_No…don't need to…I'm…I'm fine." The boy immediately said when the word ambulance escaped my lips. He tried to struggle upright, but I held him down. I wasn't sure if it was a smart idea letting him run around as if nothing had happened._

"_Shh…I'm sure they just check you out." I tried to sooth him. These big blue eyes looked at me and I saw how hard he fought to hold back the tears that already welled up his eyes._

"_I'm …I'm sure that I'm okay. I…know it." It had been a sad, true statement._

"_Can you please do me this favour?" I asked him. He looked at me, making sure if I was lying to him. _

"_I'll come with you. I …have to let them check on me too, although I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. It's just a precaution." I tried to persuade him._

"_So…you're…hurt…I knew it. 'm sorry." I heard him mumble. It was heartbreaking. I sat there on the street and waited for Dad to come to my help, but he didn't. _

"_Oh…no…this isn't your fault, and I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. What about a deal: we both go to the boring and terrifying hospital, and let the doctors do their job and afterwards we go and have some ice cream?" I asked him. I had started rubbing his back in circles. We both sat in the middle of the street and waited for the ambulance._

"_Why…would you do that?" He asked smug. It was obvious that he was mistrustful. He didn't believe what one said to him; especially not if it was something nice. He never believed that someone could do something nice to him. It took some time for him to realise that he can trust us._

"That's not fair." Sophie says quietly. She focuses the carpet, like her brother when he was a little touched by something.

"What is unfair?" I ask my daughter.

"What…I don't know…all of that.…Why did the woman do that?" She looks at our son.

"I…don't know. Maybe she just isn't as good in being a parent as Mom and Dad are." He knows why his mother couldn't be a mother for him. He knows that his mother was an alcoholic, and she never really knew what she was doing. Furthermore, he knows that his mother is in some way unsatisfied with her life, but unable to make a change and try to make things different. He doesn't tell his sister. He knows that this it too difficult for Sophie to understand.

"Mom?" She asks me and looks at me with her huge eyes. I can sense what question comes next, and I know that I won't be able to answer it. I'll never be able to.

"Why…I mean…I don't want to be mean or hurt you Ryan, I really don't…but…why did you feel you have to take care for him? He was a stranger, or not?" She asks. I only shrug my shoulders. I can't answer this question.

"I don't know sweetie. If I knew, I'd tell you. It was just a feeling I had. I can't explain it. It's the feeling a mother has when it comes to her children." I tell her. This was the feeling that I had: as if he already was my child.

"Although he didn't grow inside of you and you knew him only a few minutes?" My daughter asks. For her these things seem to be so far away.

"Tell her the story in the hospital, maybe she'll understand then." My oldest son suggests and I look at my husband and then I go on.


	8. And did Ryan get his ice cream?

_**And did Ryan get his ice cream?**_

"**W**ell, I managed to calm Ryan down and persuade him that going to the hospital wasn't such a bad idea…

_The doctors had a quick check on me, but with Sophie everything was okay. I could have gone home, but instead I told Dad to pick me up from the hospital. I wanted to wait for Ryan. I had to know that he was alright too._

"_No…no…no!" I heard someone scream from in the examining rooms. "No…I want my Mom!" I knew immediately who was the one screaming._

"_Stop it and stay still! I only want to check whether you're alright!" I heard a harsh masculine voice reply._

"_No!"_

"_Shut up you little ungrateful brat!" A very stressed doctor replied…"Where the fu…" The door slammed open and Ryan ran out…a doctor followed but Ryan had been fast and mobile. I jumped from the chair and followed Ryan._

"_Hey…wait!" I called out. I saw his head turning back, while he ran and then he collided with two nurses pushing a bed through the hall way. Again the boy landed with his butt on the floor. The doctor reached him and pulled him up. I didn't like the way he behaved towards the visibly terrified kid._

"_And now you come back and behave!" The doctor commanded in a harsh voice._

"_No." The boy replied – close to tears. Then I saw what I thought was impossible. The doctor – lost all his patience – slapped his face. I reacted. I jumped between the man and the boy, and without thinking what I was doing, I slapped the doctor's face. He looked astonished at me._

"_Now you know how the boy feels. I want one of your colleagues having a look at the boy. I don't think that your incompetence in dealing with kids can help in this case." I said and put an arm around the now trembling boy._

"_Wanna …go…home." Ryan had whispered and then tears started to flow. I kneeled down to him and took him into my arms. I had wanted to protect him. I had wanted to make him feel better. I felt for the boy, as I felt for my children when something happened to them. _

"_Shhh…honey…soon you can go home." I started soothing him. I rocked him back and forwards. _

"_Kirsten?" I heard your Dad from behind me call. I looked up to him, not letting the boy out of my arms._

"_Honey, are you okay? I just had a talk with Tom, and when I left the building someone told someone told me you were on your way to the hospital." He said and then looked at the boy in my arms._

"_What happened?" He asked._

"_Let me describe it as little accident." I told him. I didn't want to make Ryan feel any worse as he obviously already did._

"_Mrs. Cohen? I'm Doctor Meredith. Is this the boy? Shall I have a look at?" A woman came towards us and asked._

"_Yes, he is." I said._

"_How is his name?" She asked. I looked at your Dad. At that point of time I didn't know his name._

"_Ryan." Dad said. The doctor kneeled down towards us._

"_Okay Ryan, would you like to come with me? I promise I'll be as quick and careful as I can." She said. The boy hid even further in my arms._

"_Sweetie, please. I know you're afraid, but it won't be too bad. And when you're done we can go and have some ice cream, okay?" I said. He only nodded and then tried to get up. When the doctor reached for his hand his knees started to buckle. I reached out for his back to support him, but then his knees gave finally in, and I could only hinder him from hitting the floor hard enough to hurt him._

"_Oh my God, what's wrong with him?" I asked as the boy lay limp in my arms._

"_I don't know, but we have to find out…soon." The doctor said. Dad came; kneeled down and picked up the boy and he followed the doctor. It didn't take long and then he came back to me._

"_How is he?" I asked him._

"_I don't know." He answered and then sat down next to me. My heart sank deeper and deeper. If I had known that the boy was in real bad shape, I'd have reacted sooner and faster. What if it had been something serious? I felt awful._

"_What happened?" Dad asked, dragging my out of my thoughts._

"_His mother started beating him on an open street. I couldn't let this happen." I told him._

"_So you stepped in."_

"_And his mother freaked out and threw the boy against me and we both fell. Don't worry, everything's fine with our little daughter. The boy ran away and then was hit by a car. That's why we're here." I said when I caught your Dad's worried look._

"_Poor boy. I hate it when they have to send the kids into a foster home, in this time of the season." He said. _

"_That bad?" I asked him. He nodded. I felt how my heart sank deeper and deeper, and I felt that I was sad. I'd been sad for the boy and his destiny. He didn't deserve it. He seemed to be such a nice, polite little boy. I couldn't believe what his mother had been doing to him had really happened. I just couldn't forget these huge blue eyes looking at me in astonishment as if I had done something like a miracle. I later would find out that I did._

_I saw the doctor who had taken Ryan with her in the hallway. I got up._

"_Excuse me. How's the boy?" I asked her._

"_Unfortunately I'm not allowed to give you any details about his medical condition." She answered._

"_Well, I'm in charge of his case." Your Dad said and took my hand into his and squeezed it._

"_Oh…then…he ought to be better, but soon he'll be on tracks again. I'm sure the hospital will send his file to your office." She said with a smile._

"_Can we see him?" I asked._

"_Sure; the hallway down in this direction, the last room." She said._

"_Thanks." Dad answered and then looked questioning at me. I didn't tell him that it was important for me to make sure the boy was okay on my own. _

"_I promised him ice cream when he cooperates. I can't breach my promise." I told him. I could see that he was curious about my answer. I couldn't tell him that I had the feeling of being in some way responsible for the boy. I couldn't tell him that it hurt me to see what was happening to him. I couldn't let him know that I had feelings for the boy. I thought the reason for this was my pregnancy. I didn't know it had been more._

_We stepped in the room. Ryan was curled together in a tiny little ball. All these tubes attached to him scared me._

"Was he very sick?" Sophie interrupted me.

"Uh…he…" My wife stutters. It is hard to explain all of this to our little daughter, without making her afraid of anything and helping her to understand.

"No, he wasn't. He just hadn't eaten enough for a while and…sometimes…" How can I tell her? How can I tell her without making my son feel uncomfortable?

"When you don't eat enough you hurt your kidneys and that's what happened to Ryan." My eldest son says and I'm thankful for him helping out. I have a quick look over to my other son. He doesn't look too happy about all this, but he also doesn't seem to be upset.

"It's that why you have to remind Ryan so often of his doctor's appointments?" My daughter asks my wife.

"Yes, because your brother has to be very careful about that." I see my wife's concerned look in her face. It's a fact that our son doesn't think the same, although he knows that this is very serious.

"And did Ryan get his ice cream?" Soph asks again.


	9. Does anyone want some tea?

_**Does anyone want some tea?**_

"**I** think he did…

_Mom went over to Ryan and stroked over his cheek._

"_Hey sweetie." She said, waiting for him to open his eyes._

"_What are you doing here?" A sleepy Ryan just asked._

"_I promised you some ice cream, didn't I?" She asked. He had only shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't believed that she would keep her promise._

"_I only need to know whether you're more the chocolate-vanilla-type or strawberry." She said. Again Ryan had only shrugged his shoulders._

"_You don't know?" I asked him. I wanted to cheer him up a little. He seemed so sad and I didn't like it._

"_Then we have to find out." Your Mom said and then turned to the door._

"_Miss?" A nurse had asked her attention. "I'm sure some ice cream will do him good, but…please be careful. He hasn't eaten in days and we don't know how his stomach will react when he starts eating again." It had been awful to realise that the boy actually had been starving, because his mother had been unable to feed him properly. Tom had already told me that things were everything else than nice and shiny. I hadn't counted on them being that bad. It had hurt to look into these huge and soft blue eyes, knowing what lay behind them._ _He had tried to be invisible through the whole time I've been alone with him._

_Mom came back with the ice cream._

"_Hey, here am I. As we don't know which ice-cream-type you are, I brought a little bit of everything so we can find out."She said and went over to Ryan. He hadn't moved, only a little since she was gone – since we've entered the room._

"_So, what do you wanna try first? Chocolate or strawberry?" Mom had gone on as if everything was fine. Ryan didn't give us an answer but hid more underneath the blanket._

"_Hey sweetie, what's wrong? Don't you like ice cream?" Mom asked him and sat down on the edge of the bed._

"_Wanna go home." His shy voice whispered._

"_I'm sure you can go home soon." Your Mom tried to sooth him. It had hurt to know that this was a lie. I knew that he probably would never go home again._

"_But…Mom's gone." He had said. I realised that he already had figured what was going to happen – what was not going to happen. It broke my heart._

"_She'll come back, I'm sure." Mom said to him, trying to stroke his cheek; but Ryan didn't allow her. He hid deep under the blanket. _

"_She won't…she doesn't like me." This was the sadist statement I've ever heard, and it was somewhat true. I felt that I had to do something. I wanted to rub his back, but he flinched under my touch and I figured it'd be too much of stress, if I forced him to any physical contact._

_We both didn't know what to say about this. It had been too hard to think about Ryan being alone at Christmas. It's always bad having to take children out of their families and having to send them into foster homes; but Christmas makes everything seeming worse as it already was._

"_What are they doing with me now?" He had asked and blinked out from underneath the blanket. Only a few strays of hair and his eyes were visible. In the strange lights of the hospital he really looked sick._

"_I think Tom will find a nice place for you." I said. I'd tried to sound encouraging, but Mom's look told me that I failed awfully._

"_The one I had to stay in the last few days?" He asked. I could see the fear in his face. I hadn't known that it had been that awful in there for him. Usually Tom manages to find the right place for every kid. He knows whom he can place where. It hadn't worked with Ryan._

"_Didn't you like it there?"_

"_Doesn't matter." He said and then wasn't seen anymore from underneath his blanket._

"_Hey, what about the ice cream?" Mom had tried again, but we couldn't get him out. The slight contractions of the blanket told us that he was crying. We had wanted to comfort him, but he had been unreachable for us. Every time we tried to get a little closer to him he shifted away from us and flinched. _

_Defeated we had to go home. There had been nothing else for us to do. We had to let it go. It was sad. We had been sad. _

"And then you left Ryan alone?" Sophie asks.

"Does anyone want a tea or something else to drink?" Our younger son says and then heads for the kitchen.

"Do you need any help?" I ask him. I put a hand onto his back. We had known that it'd be uncomfortable for him. Nobody likes to be reminded about his family history at Christmas, when it was a chronically ill one.

"No, thanks." He says. I look at him. He's leaning against the kitchen counter.

"You just need a break?" I ask him. I feel bad. He should enjoy this evening. On the other hand, everyday would be a bad day, because he'd never feel better about this.

"Well, it sounds worse than it had seemed to me then." He admits.

"Are you okay, or shall we wait with the rest for another time?" I ask him. These are his issues. He has a right to decide how far these are allowed to be discussed.

"No, it's okay. I think this is just going to be a very long night." He says with a thoughtful smile. He doesn't lie to us anymore. He doesn't come up with his true feelings like Seth does, but he gives us hints.

"I'm sure your Mom will make you a hot cocoa then." I tell him and pad his back. We pick up some glasses a few bottles of water, juice, lemonade and wine and then join our beloved again. I see my wife's concerned face. I give her an assuring smile. She's worried too. In some way we're always worried about our younger son. It'd never been easy for him, although it hadn't been his fault at all. He just brought a huge package of burden with him when he came to us.

"So, did you go back and take Ryan home?" Sophie asks. Her eyes are huge and eager to find out, what had happened eight years ago on Christmas Eve.

"It…was all a little more complicated." I say…


	10. Yes we did

_**Yes we did**_

_**T**__he next day I got a call from Tom. Ryan's Mom had come to him, claiming her son back. She said he had been running away, and when Tom had asked her about the incident on the street she had blamed Tom for this having happened. It had been a decided case that Ryan never would go back to his mother, thus it had been my job to explain it to her,_

"_Where do you have to go? I thought you took the day off?" Mom had asked when I was on my way to the car._

"_The boy from yesterday. His mother appeared again and now wants him back."_

"_Don't tell me, you'll help her with this!" Mom had asked. I could hear her disapproval in her voice._

"_No…no…I just have to explain her why she can't get him back. That's all." Mom had nodded._

"_Do you want me to come?" She asked. I'd been taken aback a little when she'd asked it. She had never asked before whether she should come to one of my appointments, and never did again._

"_Uh…I don't know…I mean, I'd like if you come, but I don't think you can help me…"Mom had been pregnant and I was just afraid something could happen to our two women._

"_Did you forget that I've witnessed what happened?" This had been a good argument; but Ryan's mother had already demonstrated her willingness to use violence once._

"_That's right, but…you know…"_

"_You're afraid something could happen to me and our little daughter, aren't you?" She asked. Mom can see when someone isn't telling her the truth._

"_Well, yes."I admitted._

"_Then you have to take care of us. Anyway, I'd like to know how the boy is. I still feel in somehow responsible for him. I…don't know, I just want to make sure that he's alright, after all what had happened."_

"_And who takes care of Seth?"_

"_We take him with us. I'm sure getting an insight into your job can help him to realise how privileged he is." Your Mom uses to come with such arguments when she's convinced about something,_

"Which means at the end Mom and Dad took me with them to the hospital." I say.

"You and hospitals? I don't believe you. You can't even deal with everyday-body-liquids. How could you have been able to deal with the not everyday ones?" Sophie asks. I hate to admit that she's right and that she, with her eight years, already knows my weaknesses. That's not funny.

"Well, yeah…but I didn't know then…so

_We were in the hospital and there was this blond hysteric woman who was just.…Ryan's mother. She was screaming about why she wasn't allowed to see her son, and to take him home with her. It had been awful. Mom and I then went to Ryan._

"_Hey Ryan." Mom greeted him. He really had been small and tiny. I tell you. He'd been even tinier than you are now, and he'd been two years older then, than you are now. He didn't answer but just answered with one of his still trademark lopsided shy smiles. _

"Dude, don't look at me like that. I know you won't punch me."

"Are you sure?"

"_How are you today?" Mom asked._

"_Fine, thanks."_

"_That's good to hear. This is my son Seth. I thought you'd like some company." Mom said. Again he only had answered with his shy smile. He must have felt really uncomfortable, because this is what he does when he feels like that._

"_Is…is…that my Mom outside?" He asked._

"_Uh…yes…but don't worry. She won't hurt you anymore." Mom answered him._

"_I'm…I'm sorry…for…her behaviour, but she doesn't know it better, and…it's not her; I think. Sometimes…she's just not herself." He had said. This was his code for saying: my Mom is drunk. I'd never listened before to someone who apologized for his mother and in some way tried to defend her. For me it always had been the other way round. The parents defend their children._

"_She's not a bad person…she…sometimes…doesn't know it better." He had sounded very uncomfortable about that, but who hadn't?_

"_Hey, do you wanna read some comics? I brought some." I know that I'm not the most sensitive person, but I had noticed that things had been a little strained and I had to do something._

"_Okay, then I'll leave you two alone." Mom said and then left._

"_Hey, so I'm Seth. I'm twelve years old, go to Harbor High and my hobbies are comics – well, graphic novels -, sailing and playing PlayStation games." I introduced myself. He had looked at me like a deer caught in between headlights._

"_Oh…okay…uhm…I'm Ryan. I'm ten and I go to Chino Hills. I…don't have any hobbies." He had admitted._

"_That's no problem. I'll find you one. We'll start with comics first and then see." I said._

_I don't know how long we've been sitting together, reading and talking about comics; but some time. All of a sudden the door was pushed open and a woman I haven't seen before stormed in._

"_C'mon Ryan, we're going." It had been Ryan's mother. She tore him out of the bed, not taking care of the IV line he has had in his hand. She ripped it out and I could see that it had hurt him, but he didn't say a word._

"_Hurry up Ryan; we don't have the whole day!" She had screamed. I felt intimidated by this woman. I had no idea what to do. I only knew in somehow that this wasn't right._

"_Mom!" I called out. I was scared. This woman took Ryan and then dragged him out of the room._

"_What's going on here?" Mom asked when she entered the room._

"_I'm taking my son home." The woman said. She was pulling Ryan violently with her._

"_No, you won't!" Mom followed her and I did too._

"_Miss Atwood, I'm sorry, but you can't take your son home with you. You have to wait until I've finished my report." The social worker, Tom, said calmly when we all stood in the hallway. The woman didn't care and stormed out of the hospital – Ryan barely able to follow her._

"_Stop, you won't take your son with you!" Tom screamed, ran after them and then grabbed Ryan's free arm._

"_I will! He's my son, so leave him alone!" She screamed and then pulled Ryan further. Tom pulled on the other arm._

"_No…, please let me lose." Ryan had asked Tom._

"_Ryan, don't worry nobody will do you any harm. We just want you to be safe." Tom had said._

"_To be safe? Sending him into a foster home isn't safe."The woman had screamed and then pulled once more and Tom pulled back again._

"_Stop it, both of you. You're hurting him!" Mom stepped in, but the other woman didn't pay attention and pulled once more. Ryan screamed in pain, Tom let go of him and then the woman disappeared with Ryan._

"And then Ryan's mother took him with her?" Sophie asked.

"She did." I answer her. "But not for long. That same day the court ordered and injunction and withdrew the guardianship from his mother.

"And when did you decide that Ryan had to come here?" My daughter asks; I look over to my husband.


	11. ChocoVanilla

_**Choco-Vanilla**_

"**In** the morning of the first day of Chrismukkah, …

_Seth came downstairs. He looked sad. He hadn't been talking as much as he used to after what he had witnessed in the hospital. It was obvious that he liked the other boy._

"_Hey honey, happy Chrismukkah!" I said to cheer him a little up. It didn't help. He was so thoughtful, as we all had been. We all had our trouble to believe that something like what had happened was possible. If you grow up protected and far away from things like that, it's hard to believe that these things are true and reality._

"_mmm." He answered. He didn't look as happy as he supposed to look. As we all know, Chrismukkah is Seth's favourite holiday. _

"_Oh honey, are you still sad about yesterday?" He just nodded._

"_But there's nothing to be sad about anymore. I'm sure Tom will find a very good place for Ryan, where he's safe." Dad answered. I looked at me and we both knew that we didn't believe that. It's sometimes questionable whether taking the kids from their family and putting them in a foster home was better or even worse._

"_Where is he now?" Seth asked._

"_Tom brought him back to the hospital. Ryan still needs a lot of rest." Dad answered._

"_So, he's alone in a hospital on Chrismukkah. Things can't get worse can they?" Seth asked. Dad and I didn't know what to reply. We both felt the same as Seth did._

"_Can…I mean later can we go to visit him? He really likes comics, but he doesn't have any. I thought I give him some of mine. I have too many anyway."This had been the first time Seth started to leave his spoilt only child status and started to feel for others. He never did before…_

"Because there's no reason to in regard to all these Newport spoilt rich kids." Our son protests.

"Yes, we know." Sandy says.

"So, we went to the hospital after breakfast…"

_On our way we met Tom. He didn't look happy at all._

"_Hey Tom, what are you doing here?" Dad asked him._

"_What do you think I'm doing?" He asked back. I immediately sensed what this meant._

"_Seth, why don't you go to Ryan, while we're talking to Tom?" I said to Seth and it didn't take a second and he disappeared._

"_So, you're here to bring him to a foster home?" Dad pronounced the inevitable. _

"_I hate to say this, especially in this period of the season, but yes."It was heartbreaking to get to know this._

"_And…how soon will he find a new family?" I asked. I couldn't stand the thought that he would have to live in a foster home._

"_His age and his background…there's not a high possibility. It's also questionable when he finds a family, whether they can put up with him. Anyway first of all I need to find a foster home for him."_

"_You didn't find one yet?" I was astonished. _

"_The one I wanted to take him to called five minutes ago and told me that they have no additional space."Which meant that Ryan didn't have a place to stay over Christmas._

"_And what are you doing when you don't find a place?" I asked._

"_Then I'll have to take him home with me. My wife won't be happy about that, but I can't let him stay on the streets." Tom said. I looked at Dad and…_

"…the decision was made. We took him home with us and before New Year's Eve he was officially our son."

"He was awfully frightened when we took him home with us." Sandy says and catches a look from our younger son. Fact: he doesn't do frightened – not anymore.

"_Ryan dude, that'll be great. We can read comics the whole day and play games on the PlayStation." Seth had been enthusiastic about this idea. No, we hadn't really thought a lot about this. It had been an emotional decision._

"_But, I don't know how to play." He had been intimidated. That was obvious._

"_Don't worry, I'll show you."_

"_But…I…don't think it'll work." Ryan had been wrong, he just didn't know it then._

"_Why not? I promise, none of us will hurt or scream at you" I tried to calm him down a little._

"_You know what? We go home and we'll show you your room. You can stay in there as long as you want; and you only join us when you want to. Is that okay?" Mom had suggested. Ryan hadn't given us any kind of response._

"_I still owe you some ice cream anyway."_

_In somehow Seth managed to convince Ryan to come with us, but as soon as we'd shown him is room, he'd disappeared in it and didn't come out again until the evening. While we all were sitting at the dinner table he came down. We've been finished with eating. Nobody had counted on him coming downstairs that day. He had been way too scared of us._

"_Hey Ryan! Merry Christmas." Mom said and took him into her arms. He'd squinted his eyes. He was so afraid of any physical contact._

"_You can sit down next to Seth." Mom had set the table for him too, although we doubted he'd come to join us._

"_Are you hungry?" I asked him. He had shaken his head. His eating habits worried us over years._

"_You need to eat something. What about the ice cream? You only need to let me know what you like."_

"Choco vanilla." Sophie says. She knows her brother. "But that's a sad story. I mean…not so funny." She said and looked over to her brother. She's too young to know how to react after this story. I look over to my son. He looks thoughtful. I think this had been enough. I look over to my wife and she nods.

"Well, I think it's time for the presents." I say and soon the thoughtful and slightly depressed atmosphere turns into a more cheerful one. Ryan's still shy when it's about receiving presents. He still doesn't take anything we give him as granted. While Sophie is occupied with her presents I go upstairs and open the door to Ryan's room. The dog is still sleeping on his bed. This time there's no mess on the floor. I pick up the dog and when we're downstairs I put it down again. It immediately runs straight to the rest of the family.

"A dog?" Sophie exclaims with a lot enthusiasm and joy.

"A dog." Kirsten says. Sophie immediately starts cuddling with the dog.

"What's her name?" She asks.

"Lilly." Kirsten answers. We watch Sophie stroking through the dog's coat.


	12. Family

_**Family**_

**A**fter hours of cuddling Lilly seeks refuge under Ryan's legs. We explained Sophie that the dog needs to get used to us first, and that it could take a while; that we have to give this time to the dog. Unfortunately it is obvious where the dog feels most comfortable and I know that we have to try every kind of persuasion technique we know.

"I think Lilly likes Ryan." Sophie says to me. She doesn't sound disappointed or anything. She even sounds a little happy about that.

"Probably she feels that Ryan knows best how she feels now: away from home and in a new family." I'm astonished about Sophie's understanding, despite her age.

"Maybe." I only say. I watch the boys of our family caught deeply in a conversation. Ryan's still thoughtful. I feel a little bit guilty. I know that Ryan will digest this evening a little longer than necessary. His past is still an important part of him and I doubt it will change one day. Sophie and I join the boys and we start to play some games, until late at night.

Sophie and Seth are in bed. Sandy and I are tidying up the living-room. Ryan helps us. It is visible that he hasn't recovered yet. I look over to my husband. We should try to take some of the heavy feelings from him. He shouldn't feel burdened by his past.

"Is there anything we can get you before you go to bed?" I ask him. He looks confused. He still can't believe that we can see what is up his mind – that there is actually something on his mind.

"Uh…no thanks…I…think I should go to bed too." He says.

"Do you think that you can sleep?" My husband asks him. Giving only hints never worked. You need to address the problem directly otherwise Ryan finds a hundred different ways to avoid the point.

"Uh…dunno…I'll see." He says. He looks a little helpless and lost.

"Oh honey, we shouldn't have brought up this topic." I feel really bad now. He still suffers and it's doubtful whether he ever will stop doing so.

"No…it's okay. I don't think we should have waited any longer telling her." He answers. He's always the one who provides you with understanding, even if nobody else does.

"Come here, sit down." I say and sit myself down on the couch we've been sitting before. He follows my command, head ducked. My husband follows him and sits down next to him, so that he's now sitting between us.

"I know that this hadn't been easy for you this evening, and I'm proud of you how you can handle this. But you should also know that we don't expect you to go over this like it doesn't mean anything to you; and you can talk to us about it, no matter what it is about. Okay?" I tell him. I see that this makes him feel uncomfortable. Somehow he's caught in a strange situation. He has two families. A family he lived ten years with; he grew up with, which only caused him pain and harm. And another family he has now lived eight years with, which tried to be a family for him. I say we've succeeded, but he can't forget his own family and no matter what had happened, they're still his family and that's what's making everything so complicated.

"Yeah…I know…it's…just…you mean the world to me…and I really love you, but…my mother and Trey they still mean something to me, they are still my family and…it…I dunno." He trails off.

"It still hurts and we can understand that. You don't need to have a bad conscience towards us when you still feel something for them. It's natural. We never expected you to forget them." My husband intervenes now. It's as usual. Ryan doesn't know what to say, and we need to tell him that we understand what he feels. Sometimes I have the feeling as if we have to tell him what he's feeling; as it sometimes seems that he isn't sue himself. Ryan shrugs his shoulders and I wrap my arm around him and pull him a little tighter against my side.

"This…doesn't make things easier." He answers.

"Maybe not, but it might encourage you to talk to us about those things and relive you from your bad conscience." My husband says.

"Uh…thanks." He answers shyly.

"Oh sweetie." I say and pull him even a little closer to my side. He leans his head on my shoulder.

We sit there for a while and then decide it's also time for us to go to bed. When I go pass his room, I see him standing in his room, focusing on a corner in his room.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"I think the dog has found its place." He says and points into the corner he was watching. The dog lies curled together on his sports cloth on the floor.

"I guess she likes you."

"Great." He mumbles. I pat his back.

"Leave the door open, maybe she chose another place." I say to him.

"I don't have any other choice, do I?" He asks.

"Well, you can throw her out, but do you have the heart to do this to such a cute little creature?" I ask him teasingly. It's an open secret that he couldn't. He'd rather sleep on the couch than throwing his sister's dog out of its sleeping place.

"No." He sighs.

"Now go to bed and tomorrow we'll see what happens." I say to him and kiss his forehead.

"Good night." He says and then disappears in his bed.

When I get up later the night I see light streaming through the slit. He's still not sleeping. I have a close eye on him over the next few days. We know that he'll need some time to get over this again, but we'll give it to him. There have been worse things to get him through to. This shouldn't be such a problem. He trusts us and allows us to help eventually. We are his family and he knows it. We are his family and he is our son and brother.

~END~


End file.
